Bewusstsein bestimmt das Sein?

Glücklich zu sein ist keine Frage des Zustands, sondern der Einstellung.

Heading Home

so clean the sheets we slept in
the bond we had
snow-white the bed we slept in
the oath we shared

so dirty now the sheets
our bed is drenched in blood
betrayal - a depriving stench
this isn't home no more

your eyes reflect
a prospect of eternal sea
your salty lips
a last sunset's farewell

your darkening hair
a shade of fading light
your cold embrace
a shade of fading life

I dig deep to find your love
your body still my sanctuary
all this blood the sands will swallow
the tide is turning red

I dig deep to bury us
disrobed in parallel graves
lone bodies the flood will gather
the past is swept away

our oath is now renewed
oh pale brother
tidy our sheets
for we are heading home

our bond is now forever
oh pale brother
prepare our bed
for we are heading home

Text von 2007

Mana Burn

I know, we just got here
this night's just started
but already I'm pumped with music and beer
this high tension starts to kill me
I wanted too much, too fast, too soon

my stanima shrinks to none
my inner demons now ressurected
by booze and disbelief
emotionally disarmed I collapse
ruining this evening for the both of us

thanks for guiding me outside
but this night is so dark and unforgiving
I'm merely here
weakened, tumbling, senseless
your words are but drivel to me

with no one but me to blame
with heaven once in reach
an icarus-like downfall
this night it will destroy me
this time it will destroy me

Night Out With Nola

a dark-haired darling
her caring arms will hold me
her calming smile will cool me down

she's my secure home
to rest my broken limbs
save haven without storms

no force on earth
tears down these walls
save fortress without wars
affection carved in stone

a blue-eyed sweetheart
her fiery lips will heat me up
her charming smile will melt my heart

she sends me down
a rocky grinding road
constant fighting, nowhere to stay
there's few light in the dark

breakfast: daily kiss goodbye

lies cover up for lack of grit
my self-concept conflicts with common sense

is there enough room
for two hearts pounding in the same chest?

the day will come that I will have to bury her...

Text von 2007

With Flowers In Her Hair

found dead
'bout three weeks later
they had to pull her teen body
out of the icy waters

her eyes empty as the skies
her skin pale as snow
yet with green coatings
like ivy on a birch (in fall)

they found signs of internal bleedings
as if her heart was broken
the cuts to her arms not deemed lethal
mere relicts of past agonies

her eyes empty - soulless
her skin pale - lifeless

with flowers in her hair
still wet from her watery demise
but somehow never to wither
ever to blossom

buried
forgotten
with flowers in her hair
the flowers I put there...